


Five Texts Sherlock Chose Not to Send and the One He Didn't Get a Chance To

by mm8



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fake Character Death, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mycroft's Meddling, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His right thumb hovers over the SEND button.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Texts Sherlock Chose Not to Send and the One He Didn't Get a Chance To

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lar_laughs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/gifts).



_One_

As he and John run from the _real_ cops, he's able to pull out his mobile phone. John doesn't notice this action as they weave and turn down the streets. What Sherlock notices however is that his new flatmate (John is going is confirm this when they get back to Baker Street, of course he will) has been without his essential cane since they spotted the wrong cab.

He spends a quick text off to Angelo, requesting him to meet them at Baker Street and to bring John's cane.

As an afterthought, he types,

> BTW, John was not my date.

  
Sherlock frowns. He doesn't like the way that sounds. Not one bit. He erases the words, slips his mobile back into his coat, and keeps on running with John.

_Two_

He can't keep from smiling all the way to the bank. They're on their way to see Sebastian at the bank. Sherlock hasn't seen Sebastian since uni and he has a thing or two to prove to him now. 

Sherlock glances at his mobile, at a text Sebastian sent after his email.

> Will you come?

  
John is sitting beside him staring out the window and admiring the London scenery, paying no mind to Sherlock.

He types with his thumbs with great speed.

> Yes. On my way. With my new boyfriend. Stop bugging me.

  
Sherlock pauses. No, that's not right. Technically, _technically_ John's not his partner. He wants John to be his partner. But John is interested in women, if all accounts are correct he's _wonderful_ in bed. He's intelligent, actually intelligent and he's so beautiful. God.

He erases the bit about John being his boyfriend and sends the text.

_Three_

"I'm just going out," John says a hint of irritation in his voice. 

"Hmm."

"Sherlock—" John sighs. "Whatever."

Sherlock hears the retreating footsteps walk out of the common area-- he's left the door open-- climb down the stairs two at a time with a bit of trouble and hesitation, and slam the front door of 221 shut with a loud bang.

He sighs and looks up at the celling from his seat. Has he done something wrong again? Sherlock isn't used to being around others constantly, especially when he's on a case. John should be used to this by now. John should recognize that the work is incredibly important to him. It's always been first in his life. That's why he said he was married to it when they first met. Oh…

John wants to be noticed, made important. Well, John _is_ important, doesn't he see? Maybe he doesn't—in John's mind Sherlock's recent constant focus on this game with Moriarty could mean that he's no longer interested. Perhaps Sherlock is making him feel inadequate in some way. 

But he can he do now that John's left their flat?

He picks up his mobile and types two words,

> Be safe.

  
It's idiotic. Of course John can be safe. He was trained soldier and invaded Afghanistan. He's demonstrated to Sherlock that he can protect himself.

Sherlock plays with the junk drive that his brother wants so badly between his thumb and forefinger. A thought goes through his brain and he jumps off the chair and gets out John's laptop, writing a message to the mystery Moriarty on his website.

The text he wrote out to John is forgotten, unsent.

_Four_

He runs. 

Irene's alive and John knows. 

Irene's alive and John met with her willingly.

Irene's alive and John said he didn't love him to her face.

But John _knows_ how he feels about him. So why did he lie to her? There's no reason to lie to a practical stranger, someone who John sees as an enemy. John never lied about his feelings toward any of his previous lovers, so why lie now?

Is it because Sherlock has never said as much, no tender words or affections? Sherlock knew down to his bones how John Watson felt about him even though they made no silly declarations or had yet slept together. So why doesn't John know?

Why? Why, _why_?

His heart is breaking. It's being torn to shreds by John Watson and his betrayal.

Sherlock flags a cab and rambles off an address; he's not such which one. He doesn't care.

Hurriedly his thumbs fly across the keyboard in a flurry.

> Please collect your things from 221B by 5:00 tonight. I never want to see you again. 

  
His right thumb hovers over the SEND button.

Sherlock bites his lip, drawing blood and shoves his phone back into his coat. The cab comes to a halt at Baker Street and he throws bills at the driver.

He doesn't look at his phone again until the next day and by that time he and John are on the right path to being stable again.

_Five_

It takes Sherlock a while to realize that he's messed up. 

He's made a scene and said John wasn't even a friend, when it truth they both know John is much _much_ more. 

He's texted John about Henry Knight's therapist, picture attached, in lieu of an apology. 

But Sherlock knows that pushing John towards a woman for espionage purposes will not do. Not in John's mind. He'll still be angry with him in the morning.

His hands are shaking are he picks up his mobile and types his message:

> John, I'm sorry.

  
Sherlock shakes his head. No, John deserves to hear his apology, hear his sorrow, not the mechanical fakeness of a text.

He'll tell him in the morning. Even if saying sorry will be the hardest thing he's ever done.

_One_

Mycroft tumbles the mobile in his hand. It hadn't been that hard to get in retrospect. Scotland Yard now had an identical copy of this mobile locked up with all the other personal effects of his brother in the evidence room for a case that was quickly going nowhere now that Sherlock was _dead_. 

He scrolls through the mobile's apps, nothing of major interest. Looks through the contacts and only four people are listed: himself, Mrs. Hudson, Detective Inspector Lestrade and John. 

It's when he is scouring through the text messages that makes Mycroft Holmes pause.

The last message Sherlock Holmes ever sent. Or had _meant_ to send. It had been pinged back as undeliverable for some unknown reason.

> I love you, John.

  
Four words. Only four words were enough to quake Mycroft to his core. The last time Mycroft remembered his brother said that he loved anyone was before their father went missing, when they were saying goodbye to him. He'd said it begrudgingly enough for a child, but Mycroft knew that Sherlock had still meant it.

When had things changed between Sherlock and Dr. Watson? Why hadn't he noticed? Did they exchange this sentiment often or was this the first time Sherlock was expressing his true feelings?

Mycroft set the mobile aside and held his face in his hands.

Sherlock had said quite clearly that John should not know that he was alive and well for his own safety. John was mourning Sherlock, falling apart at the seams. Mycroft sent his brother grainy surveillance photos of John every two weeks or so to keep him appeased. John had nothing. Didn't John deserve to know that Sherlock was in love with him before the tragic fall?

If John knew that Sherlock was in love with him, that could add more fuel to the fire. Things could spiral out of control, he might go on a search for Sherlock and succeed in finding him and destroy the mission. Sherlock might not have wanted John to know the about his feelings and would be furious with Mycroft when he discovered the truth. 

There is the choice Mycroft Holmes has to make. 

John's happiness or Sherlock's safety.

John or Sherlock.

The mourning lover or the deceased brother?

He knows what he's going to do.

Mycroft takes the mobile, does a quick hardware reset, turns it off, and removes the microSD card. With one movement, he throws the mobile in the secret compartment in the back of the drawer in his desk. He moves across the room in three strides and opens to wall safe and puts the microSD card in there with all the other belongings. 

The decision is made.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for lar-laughs for giving me a panda v-gift on livejournal. She requested Sherlock/John a text message never received. Many thanks to meatball42 for betating.
> 
> * Kudos are amazing and I will never stop asking for them, but getting comments, actual feedback from readers means so much. Taking five seconds out of your time can really make my day.
>   
> 
> * You can follow me on [tumblr](http://mm8fic.tumblr.com/).
>   
> 


End file.
